A Cold Moment
by L.X.ie
Summary: Going about in your day you pass by over a hundred people. May takes the bus everyday and she waits with a boy that she never talks to, but doesn't she know that it only takes a moment to make a connection? But moments are delicate, it doesn't take much to make them shatter.


May stomps her feet in the light snow, waiting for the bus. Weak sunlight flickered and not a cloud in sight, yet it was still freezing cold that it felt like she had arthritis in her glove-free hands. Pulling her fitted coat tighter and burying her face in her fluffy scarf she bounced on her toes to try to help keep warm. Still bouncing she pulls on her red hat until it nearly covers her eyes.

She starts drawing shapes in the snow that the city had yet to sweep up on the sidewalk, with her toe. Another presence came up to her side, quiet as a ghost. Sneaking glances at him from the corner of her eye. It was the boy that always waits with her for the bus.

They've never spoken but they acknowledge each other. Acquaintances. The bus stop they're at never has many people but he is always there when she is. She's curious about him. Why is he there? Different people have different reasons. For example, she's there because the bus drops her right on campus and it's her freshmen year and she still doesn't have a car. But what's his reason? Why does he have green hair that he always seems to flaunt? It's a strange color and if it were an accident with bleached hair and chlorine she would think that he would hide it under a hat. She thinks that he watches her too, like he assigned himself to be her silent bodyguard. But the most important:

Where the heck is his jacket?

It's freezing out here and he's just wearing a stupid purple scarf, jeans, and a black turtleneck! No jacket, no mittens, no hat. Just that. How in the world is he not cold? The chill just seeps into her bones and makes her ach, makes her nose run and her skin chapped, freezes her limbs and makes them stiff. She doesn't know why she left warm Petalburg for this cold, cold city of LaRousse.

Shifting her gaze from him she looks at the pictures she drew in the snow like it was her job. Her nose starts to water, and as gross as it is, wipes it on her sleeve. With just him and her standing there, knowing and not knowing each other, she fidgets. Rubbing her palms together, exhaling on them, shifting weight from foot to foot, putting her hands in her thin pants pockets, and doing it all over again.

Looking over at him she freezes. Because he was looking back at her. Before, they snuck glances but, now, they stared straight out in each other's eyes. _I never noticed how green his eyes were._

Her face heating, she can blame the redness on the cold air, she blurts, "How are you not cold?"

His eyes widen a fraction, shocked that after weeks she finally speaks to him, but he covers his expression smoothly. "It's not that cold out. The sun's shining."

She glares up at the weak, pathetic excuse of a sun. "The temperature is freezing out. 20 degrees Fahrenheit and that sun is deceptive."

He gives a small chuckle at the statement and holds out his hand. "Drew."

She takes his warm one in her cold one. "May." When she loosens her grip his tightens, securing it.

"Wow, your hand really is cold." He folds his other equally warm hand over hers. "Like ice."

May blushes at his forwardness, but since they've stood next to each other can they be considered strangers? Even though she's not sure whether if they know enough about each other to hold hands like this she doesn't pull away. For two reasons, his hands are surprisingly warm and she likes him holding her hand.

He reaches for her other one and she gives it to him. Enfolding her cold hands in his he hold both pair to his chest as if they were precious. She notices a tint of pink on his cheekbones and is glad that she's not the only one affected by the other's presence.

Standing there holding hands as they wait for the bus they don't speak. What's happening at that moment, even if they can't put a name to it, is special and magical. Like words are going to be the stones that breaks this instant, shattering it like crystal.

She bites her lip and his eyes follow the movement. Slowly, as if she was an easily startled creature, he lowers his head and presses a soft kiss against her lips. It's light as a butterfly wing and just as gentle. She closes her eyes and leans in just a bit. She vaguely realizes that she's not cold anymore.

The rumbling of the bus shocks them out of their world.

The moment is shattered.

He drops her hands and she takes a step back. The bus ambles forward and opens its doors. Washing them with heated air. Nervously she puts the correct amount of change and slides into an empty seat. He hesitates before sitting, debating whether she's really looking at him with hope to sit with her or hope that he sits somewhere else. His gaze darts away but he takes a chance. He slides into the seat next to her.

She smiles and slips her warm hand into his.

**A/N: This idea started freezing my butt off at the bus stop. Seriously my fingers were frozen. How cold is it where you are? Oh and Happy Thanksgiving everyone!**


End file.
